


Hydrogenuine

by roundandtalented



Series: Quake Theory Fics [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Bucket filling, Bulge piercings (Homestuck), Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, POV flip in 2nd Chapter, Quadrant Vacillation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25387411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roundandtalented/pseuds/roundandtalented
Summary: There must be solar systems in your eyes'Cause they sparkle like exploding stars when you smile
Relationships: Barbel Gingly/Merlin Dorado, Original Troll Character(s)/Original Troll Character(s) (Homestuck)
Series: Quake Theory Fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815097
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Hydrogenuine - Ubiquitous Synergy Seeker ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=okSB73GL0Ig&app=desktop)  
>   
> [Xagave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xagave/) asked for ‘how does it go when they flip’ and then I wrote a lot of feelings and fuckings.

Ever since he got sick you've become hyper aware of Barbel's body temperature any time you touch him. And maybe you touch him a little more, a little longer, just to be sure he's cool enough. Just to be sure you're not going to lose him.

But your hands on him haven't just stayed longer, they've gotten impossibly softer. He's always been handsy but now he lingers too, gentle and warm in a way that isn't really measurable in actual degrees. There's not the sharp edge between you that there was in the beginning and-

And.

You think you're flipping for him.

No, you know you are, but you're terrified to tell him. Because what if you're just seeing what you want to see in his reactions? Or what if maybe he doesn't want to be called on his softness? You can't be sure saying anything is the right move so you just wont tell him you're leaning more flush than pitch now.

But that won't stop you from being soft for him. It won't stop the long, slow kisses or the way you hold his cheek in your palm as you ease your bulge into his chute. It won't stop the heat the blooms in your chest as you watch his expression, stubborn neediness changing to pure bliss.

You kiss him again and he trills against your lips, turns himself under you just so he can have more. You roll your hips gently but he still moans against your mouth, fingers twisting in your blanket. Barbel gasps your name between soft sounds as your bulge curls the slightest bit inside him, shifts in his chute. His back bows when you move your hand down over his chest, careful by his gills and settling on his hip. He fits so perfectly with you somehow, snug around your bulge and not tall enough for it to be difficult for you to still kiss him while you fuck. 

You've almost always been careful with him, especially considering the size difference between you, but there's just something so intimate about the way you cover all of him when you're holding yourself over him even a little. The angle you have now works well for that, and for getting to watch Barbel rock towards you, try to take more of your bulge while you pet his stomach, his thighs. You take the slick from the seam of his nook and slide your fingers along his bulge. That alone has him shivering and chirping for you, pleading with you for a little more, all of your bulge because he can take it.

You kiss him again, then kiss his neck, your lips feather light by his gills there before moving to where his hair starts. The base of his neck needs your mouth, your teeth even, and when you nip there he moans a ragged sound and his bulge coils around your fingers. You don't bite him- not for real. Not hard. Just enough to hold him, scrape your fangs over his skin and roll your hips when he feels like he has very little control. 

Barbel whines your name, peeking back as you release your hold on him, though your hand on his bulge only slows rather than letting go. You feel his fingers close over yours, encouraging you to tug his bulge a little quicker, but that's not what his eyes are asking.

He looks at you, so content, cheeks flushed and mouth open. His eyes dart to your lips and you know he's about to ask for a kiss. He wants it, he'd usually demand it, but your bulge is fully inside him and he's rightfully distracted. 

You just give him it instead of waiting until he can string words together. Slow and lazy as you roll your hips, holding him in place with your hands so that you can fuck him how you like- because that's how _he_ likes it. Barbel warbles into your mouth, eyes closed as he hangs onto your arm and the bed. He kisses you like it's the only way he can keep breathing, like you're the only thing in the room that matters. 

When your bulge curls, he pulls away just enough to moan, spreading his thighs a little farther as if to give you more room. You're twice his size, it's always a tight fit in him but your sleeping platform is huge. You give him space to breathe though, as you ruck your hips, drive your bulge deeper in him.

Barbel tries to look at you, and when you return to kissing his cheek and neck he doesn't protest. Instead, he starts talking. You expect it to be him telling you he can take more, take it rougher, but he surprises you instead.

"I love you."  


And your whole world comes to a stop.

You meet his gaze and he holds it, for a moment at least. He knows what he said, what he confessed to you and he's not taking it back. His hand leaves the bed and finds your cheek instead, careful, as if he'll break whatever spell is over the two of you.

You want to echo him- you want to but what if he changes his mind? What if it's just him being emotional mid-fuck? Even if you know that you feel the very same, you've thought about it so much these past weeks... Doubt bubbles in your chest, the worry that you're not right for him. And there's that voice in your head that reminds you that you're nothing but a blip in his lifespan, nothing but an old man stealing someone far above you's time and effort... its so much it takes away your voice.

You can't answer him verbally, as much as you want to. He knows- he has to know you've felt this way for a while now, but you don't think you _deserve it_.  
Instead, you kiss Barbel with everything your pusher wishes you could say and not feel guilty for. You kiss him because you want to, because even if you don't deserve him, you _want him_. You want to have him red. Have him black _and_ red, all of him.

And he so eagerly gives all of himself to you, regardless of if you deserve him or not.  
You're maybe a little less restrained than usual, but the trills clawing their way out of Barbel's throat assure you he's fine. Better than fine. Even when you spread his legs further, hold him down on your bulge while he squirms, the sounds that he makes are desperate but pleased. 

"Merlin," He grabs your hand again, makes you hold it still on his bulge for a moment, "I'm gunna come, fuck," He gasps when you thrust your hips anyway, "Oh fuck, not yet, shit,"  
You take a guess at what he wants, and press your fingers to the base of his bulge, feel him writhe against your palm at the pressure, just enough that he can't finish yet. 

" _Oh fuck_ ," He almost whimpers at the next curl of your bulge, stuffed deep in his chute as you hold him. You're sure Barbel knows how hot he is when he's desperate- he's got to by now. Keeping yourself from just fucking him into the bed becomes almost impossible when you know he's right at the edge. He so close to spilling in your hand, and you're not that far behind but he wants you first.  
He's not said so explicitly, but he _always_ seems to prefer coming after you've pumped his ass full of your slurry, so you intend to give him that. You _intend_ to, but keeping your fingers tight while you work your bulge in, then out of his chute, proves to be difficult. You thought you were focused, but he feels incredible and it's _distracting_.

You move him more onto his stomach, so that you're fully over him and can get more snap to your hips, push him down into the bed as he moans, hands grabbing the sheet rather than your arm. You fuck into him rougher, as deep as you can get, and when he chokes out a blissful sob, body tight and tense around your bulge, you spill.  
Barbel trills as you fill him with teal heat, and the moment you move your fingers to stroke him again, he comes. You stroke him through it, lazy as he rocks himself on you the slightest bit, riding the last of his climax as he gasps for air.

You catch what you can of his material in your palm- he doesn't ever spill nearly as much as you do, likely due to constantly having to deal with a libido as high as his. The discarded towel from his earlier shower serves its second use once you've eased yourself out of him, jelly limbed but determined not to leave the bed a mess.

Barbel just lays there a moment, panting with a dumb, sated look on his face. He doesn't even move until you're wiping him clean, gentle over him as his bulge slowly retracts.  
He blinks at you, dazed but content. The softest, sweetest chirp slips out of him and he shifts just a little, allows you to spread his legs and wipe his thighs clean. You can't help yourself- you pause your cleaning to lean over him and kiss his forehead, his cheek. Slowly his arms seem to start working for him, because then one of barbel's hands is on your face, cupping your jaw fondly. 

"I love you," He says with a hum, voice sounding rough and tired. You feel yourself smile, cheek warm against his cool hand. You're a bit bashful, you know, but you try to keep his gaze anyway and watch as he grins in return, smug that he's gotten a desired response, even if you're not answering verbally.

You give him another wipe down, knowing some of your teal has no doubt slipped out of him, and he squawks when you give his ass cheek a playful little tap. But when you finally lay down, collecting pillows for the two of you to rest your heads on, he's the sleepy kind of affectionate that makes you melt from the inside out.

You _do_ love him, so much so your pusher aches when he smiles at you. Barbel kisses you, sloppy and slow, not even aiming for your mouth, until he's too tired to keep going. Until he can't keep his eyes open or his hand cupping your jaw.

He dozes off, curled against your chest, temple resting against your skin. He's the right temperature, and that settles the part of you that worries for him now.  
You watch the rise and fall of his ribs while you think on your worthiness, and if it really matters whether you deserve him or not. Even if you think you don't, even if the whole galaxy thinks you're a waste of Barbel's time-

He doesn't think that. He loves you. And frankly as far as you're concerned, his feelings about you as a whole are the ones that should actually matter.


	2. Chapter 2

You don't know what made you think maybe you could have that picture perfect wakeup scene, where your quadmate professed his love to you while you laid in bed, maybe even brought you breakfast in bed..... but fuck you're real dumb for thinking it was possible.

Because you're not sleeping in his recuperacoon (Bluh, nasty), Merlin's snores wake you up.  
Twice.

The first time you gently shift, sprawling your arm over his chest, and it's enough to wake him halfway so that he rolls over and pulls you to him tighter, your horns tucked under his chin. He's so warm you fall back asleep quickly, especially because his arms around you makes you relax in an instant.

The second time you wake up, his snores are right by your ear fin and one of your hands is pins and needles because _HE'S LAYING ON IT_. You try to wriggle out, but it takes pushing him off you to free yourself.  
And then you're sitting up in bed, cold and maybe a little pouty.

Only until his eyes crack open and Merlin burbles a little sound in your direction, tired and concerned that you've gotten up. He's so sleepy still, and you could always sleep more-  
His hand finds your forearm and you're tugged back to him, this time on top of his chest. You almost protest. Almost. But he's so warm under you, and he pets your hair as if to calm you. As if you're an unruly meowbeast. 

To his credit, it works. You do fall back asleep. You'll smother him with a pillow for his snoring crimes at a future date.

The third time you wake up, it's because he's awake. Merlin wakes up the same time every night for work. He's a routine based creature, and you have to accept that. But you're waiting on him to answer your love confession and instead he just asks you if you'd like some tea.

Yeah, you do want tea. But you want him to lay in bed with you and tell you he loves you more!!!  
Instead you put on his shirt from the night prior, and follow him to the kitchen. You're maybe a little pouty still, but he seems to take it as your usual twilight mood rather than you being salty he's not said anything about feeling the same yet.

You're probably being impatient. You know Merlin. He's a stick in the mud- it's why he's fun to harass. It took him nearly a perigee to use the handcuffs you bought, and he's even worse with feelings! You shouldn't be surprised!

You still climb into his lap the moment he sits down to enjoy his toast and tea. When you do, your lower back twinges just a bit and you suck in a breath. Maybe you ought to take it easy tonight? Probably.

You steal a few bites of Merlin's breakfast while you sip your own tea, and when he's done eating and flicking through his phone's updates, he drops a kiss between your horns and taps your thigh to signal he'd like to stand.

It's weirdly endearing. He's done it a handful of times in the past few perigees since you've been living with him full time. Actually, it definitely started after you moved your dad into the big reef tank rather than just having him be at your hive when you were rarely there. It's one of the many soft things that you've grown fond of in a way that is definitely red. God you've flipped so red for him, it makes you stupid.  
But how could you not? 

You let him up and he takes his dishes to the sink. You know this routine so well by now. Merlin's routine very easily became both of your routine- you used to skip out on work, go in late, whatever. Not now.

Not when you know the two of you can go out for lunch and nag each other as he completes at least three inspections before returning to his office, while you return to yours. Maybe. Sometimes you both end up in one office- and it's not like everyone else hasn't learned that too.  
Most of the captains know the two places to look to find you, and they never look surprised anymore.

Sometimes your twilight shower allows for you to get frisky. Tonight, you don't think you can- you went a little overboard before going to bed, and when you and Merlin step into the trap, all you want to do is to press your face to his chest and breathe easy.

You purr even if he can't hear you over the trap, because he's warm and gentle. He washes your hair as if it's something he's always done, and not a habit that developed while you were on deaths door. You laze against him, maybe pet over his sides a little, touch the soft parts of him where his back and hips meet. 

The shower is so wonderful you don't want to leave, but Merlin has to go to work. You ought to go as well, but your own fuschia bloodright allows you freedom where you know teal doesn't. You used to think he was playing up how he'd be punished, but these nights you know better. He's shown you, even if he hasn't meant to. The big lug thought he deserved it all too- probably still does, a little bit at least. 

You used to stay hive as often as you could, but now you find being at the docks more tolerable if your quad is right there with you. And besides, Merlin's hive is lonely when he's not in it.

So the two of you go to work, you go hive, and complete another night in your lives. Merlin does not tell you loves you later.

You reason with yourself, to just give him a few nights. He's always a few steps behind you on this sort of feelings shit, and well, lots of other things because when you're not passed out your pan runs about a mile a minute... But a few nights come and go. The sun rises over and over, and Merlin does not whisper in you earfin at any point that he loves you.

He eats your nook after work one night- fucks you before bed another. He trills when you gasp out your admission again, your thighs at his cheeks. But he doesn't say it back, only proceeds to take you apart, bit by bit, before giving you your orgasm for the evening.

You think you can handle waiting, but after one week, you cave and call Raetus from your office at the docks. Merlin is busy with an inspection and won't be back for an hour, so you don't have to worry about him walking in on the conversation, but you do still have to worry about some ship captain coming to hand in weekly catch reports.

You tape a shitty note to the outside of your door, draw the curtains, and pretend like you're not even there while you babble out your suffering to the only other troll you're close to- and also the only troll who's cared about Merlin longer than you have.

" _Aww I was wondering how long it'd take for you to see yourself flippin'._ " He laughs good-naturedly at you on the other end of the line. 

Raetus is Merlin's very best friend, and you're pretty sure if he wasn't aromantic, he'd be his diamond too. But then, Raetus is also one of the nicest, most caring trolls you've ever met, so who knows. He's just generally a wonderful person to be around.

Which is why you trust him so much with your worries, of course. He's not going to lie to you- he's not like that. But he's going to be there for you best he can and it's still weird to you that you have a troll in your life you're not dating that's _like that_.

"He hasn't talked to you about it?" Worry bubbles in your gut.

" _Pfft, naw. Course not. Merlin ain't gunna blab at me til he's havin' a real actual crisis._ "

"Well... Its still weird he hasn't said it back yet." You insist, but it even sounds a little dumb to you. You feel stupid for calling him, but you don't have anyone else you can talk to.

" _Give him time. He doesn't rush into anything._ " You can hear the fondness in his voice. For you and your quadmate.

"But it's already been a week..." Your insistence is probably just annoying like everything else you do, but you're still here doing it anyways, curled up in your office chair, knees tucked to your chest.  
"What if he doesn't love me back?" You ask, voice shaking. It's a very real fear you have, that your feelings are just so much. Too much. That maybe this isn't an even match- sure he enjoys you, and he's told you he's pitch as night for you..... but what if he's truly not flushed for you like you are for him?

" _Barbel...._ " You can hear the eyeroll in Raetus's voice. " _You really think he doesn't? You really think you don't mean everything to him?_ "  
You just whine and sniffle like the brat you are. You know you're being stupid and over emotional about this. You're maybe even bothering Raetus and he's like, your only friend other than Merlin-  
" _How long did it take him to fuckin' date you."_

You scowl and hold your phone to your cheek with your shoulder.

"Like, forever." You sulk, "He kept backing down on flirting, and then he backed out of dinner. We made out in my office and then he avoided me for a whole week instead of even talking about it."

" _Yeah, exactly. It's fuckin' Merlin, he doesn't want to **talk** about his feelings like, ever._" You can hear people, and traffic, through his phone. Raetus has gotta be literally walking down the street, talking to you about this. He's so nice to you... he doesn't even have anything to gain by being nice to you and yet, he always is. He's nice to everyone.  
" _He's not going to open up about it 'til he's ready, and you just gotta wait for that. He shows more than tells, you **know** that._"

"Yeah.... he does." You exhale, long and slow. 

" _Can you think of anything that would imply he cares about you red as well as pitch? Instances, things he's done, whatever._ " He prompts you, and you nod, even though he can't see you.

"Yeah. He kisses between my horns before work. And he-"

" _You don't actually have to tell me dude, that was more a question for you to ask yourself,_ " Raetus cuts you off, amusement in his voice. " _I care very much for both of you but I don't want to know every detail-_ "

A spark of mischief ignites in you, and the urge to hassle him is undeniable.

"He fucked my ass _so_ hard when I told him-"

" _BARBEL I WILL HANG UP!! I'LL HANG UP DONT TEST ME YOU NASTY LITTLE FUCK!_ " He's laughing though, and you're grinning instead of crying so you guess whatever he intended worked. " _I **know** you got a filthy mouth, I don't need to experience that shit personally!_" 

"Yeah he _loves_ my filthy mouth-" You catch yourself. "Fuck."

" _See? You know he does. Deep down, you know. You don't need **me** to tell you shit._" Raetus actually sounds proud of you, and that's a weird feeling. You're not sure anyone's sounded like that at you that wasn't your lusus.

He invites you and Merlin out for drinks, and you happily agree. You could probably use a little loosening up, and you always have a great time when the three of you hit up a pub. You warn Raetus that you have to get back to work, thank him for easing your worries, and he reminds you to just be patient before you end the call.

You're probably the least patient troll you know, but fuck you'll try to be. 

And actually, you manage pretty ok. A night out with Merlin and Raetus does wonders for your mood, and not just because you're kind of a lightweight with drinks. Mostly it's the part where Merlin keeps picking you up, even playfully tossing you over his shoulder when it's time to head hive. The way he kisses your cheek and ruffles your hair, and when you get hive you don't even fuck like you usually might. He makes sure you have something to eat, water to drink, and then the two of you fall asleep wrapped in his thick sopor blankets, happy as a pair of clams. 

After that, things don't seem so stressful. You're not as thirsty to hear him say he loves you, when everything he does shows you it. You still tell him, whether it's when you thank him for morning tea, or when he's plowed you within an inch of your life and you can't see straight. It would be nice to hear, sure, but you can wait.

So when the two of you are laying on his sofa watching a movie, lights all dimmed and his hand in your hair- you're not expecting your situation to change. You're not even really watching the TV, you're zoned out thanks to his big fingertips being so gentle as they make tiny circles against your scalp. Merlin's chest under you is warm, and you're so calm you could fall asleep if you wanted- not that it's ever hard for you to doze off. 

He dips his head so he can press a kiss to your forehead, and you crack your eyes open. He smiles when you burble a little noise at him, no sense to the sound other than happiness. You'd be content to lay with him 'til the sun went down again.

"Love you," And he kisses your hairline, careful and soft. Your pusher nearly stops.

Oh god, oh fuck- you're gunna cry. He's too sweet, he actually said it, he _means_ it too! Your mind is going a mile a minute again, suddenly wide awake, but he's still just petting you, a hand on your lower back, fingers combing your hair like he didn't just give you the confirmation you'd been dying for??

Part of you wants to be mad that he's saying it like that, after how long you've waited, but you squash it down. The excited patter in your chest beats your frustration away, and you're lifting yourself up, cupping his cheeks and kissing him as fast as you can because he loves you- he said he loves you!

He laughs into it, a warm, low chuckle as he drags his hand down your back, eyes closed.

"I have been waiting, so long," You inform him, and kiss him again for good measure. 

"Impatient." He tells you, and yeah! You are! You know you are! And he has the nerve to smirk at you as you move to straddle him more than just being flopped on his chest. You peel your tank top off and he laughs again.

"I had a feeling that would be your reaction." He looks too smug- you pause untying the knot in your sash to lean back his way and kiss him again! His smirk remains, the fucking bastard.

"Well I'm glad _one of us_ thought ahead about this," He shakes his head, but you keep going, "Now that you've let that marinate in the ol' noggin for who knows how the fuck long, I can proceed to tell you more often without it being so fucking weird. Is it weird? I just love you and feel like I should tell you all the time. About equally as frequent as I inform you that I hate your fucking guts, actually."  
You can't talk and untie knots very well. Multitasking has never been your strong suit, even when you're trying to get laid. There is only two modes, fast or asleep, and fast gets sloppy when there's two tasks at hand. 

Merlin pulls your fingers away and shuffles the fabric of your sash around, putting the knot in the front so both of you can see the mess you've made of it. The buttons on his shirt look easier to undo, so you start on them instead and he instinctively begins working your knot apart.

"It's... Always nice to hear that." 

He means both sentiments, you think. You mean both when you say them. You didn't stop hating him when you started loving him, after all. You thought you might, but no, he's still a big stuck-up stick in the mud, and you still crave getting on his every last nerve. 

And at the moment, as you get up to shuck off your shorts, you intend to be getting on his bulge, as well as his nerves. Though, it might not be ideal due to how he's surprised you. Still, you climb back on him the moment he gets his pants shifted lower on his hips. He thankfully unzipped them and did you both a favor by peeling off his shirt. 

You'll fuck him with his pants still on, you don't care, but it's a crime to not get to touch his chest while you do so. You'll buy him a new pair of slacks if you make a mess of them, and you very much intend to make a mess, but the shirt is safe. 

"I wanted to say it sooner," It's the way his shoulders sag that gets you, the sheepish tone to his voice, "I just. Couldn't. I needed to be sure I was okay with.... you feeling like that too."

"Okay with _me_ loving you?" You scoff, and immediately feel bad when his eyebrows pinch. He's trying to talk to you about feelings, and. You need to not scare him out of doing that. "Why would you not be okay with that?"

You make yourself slow down (it feels impossible), even if you're naked and sitting on his sheath. This is probably important. Talking about this is probably important.  
But. He won't meet your eyes, palms resting on your hips, warm and comforting.

"I mean," You reach out and comb his long hair back behind his ear, "I guess I just want to understand. I thought you'd gotten pretty used to having me pitch already, what's one more quad?"  
Your hand lingers on his cheek, petting his jaw softly until he sighs, tipping his head towards the touch.

"Same old worries. That I'm not worth those feelings." Merlin turns his head to kiss your palm, and when you chirr at him, it's quiet.

"And what did I say about those worries before?"

"That you decide what's worth your time, not me." 

You know he likes how that sounds, because of the caste tint to it. Because of how it takes one more task away from him- he doesn't control what you think. Not with this, anyways.  
You've both got your issues, but Merlin not thinking he's worth your energy has been one you've run into before. You don't like thinking about the differences in your blood colors that drives the two of you apart, but he gets so stuck on it sometimes. Maybe this has made him think about it again?

"And I've decided. And I'm gunna keep on deciding... to spend time with you." You lean forward, tipping his chin up so you can kiss him, short and sweet. 

"Red, black, I don't give a shit. Both. I want you both ways, and I'm going to keep choosing to have you both ways, if you'll have me."  
You sit there, naked in his lap, and just watch him. Watch the way his lips curve into a little smile, how he meets your eyes and tips his head forward so he can press his forehead to yours. How he sighs, but it's in relief rather than being put out by your words. 

"Of course." Merlin's voice stays quiet, even though you two are pretty much only ever alone in his hive. There's no one else to hear your hushed conversation. "Always."

You grin and sit up straight, as if you were riding a hoofbeast rather than your quadmate's lap. 

"Good, because I'm gunna want an encore with this kind of energy at a later date. Because I did _not_ prepare for you to drop the 'I love you too Barbel' bomb on me tonight." You inform him, rolling your hips in a way that nudges your nook right against his sheath. "Keepin' secrets for _weeks_ , Dorado. You really left me hangin' there."

"You knew," He settles his hands on your thighs, and even though he's not as quick to roll his eyes as you are, you get the implication that he wants to. "You just wanted to hear it, you needy bastard."

"Yeah, I fucking did!" And you guess you really did, you just... needed confirmation. You needed him to actually say it, even if it's only this once. Though, you really hope it's not just this once. 

You get your hands higher on his chest, on his beefy fucking tits, just so you can pluck at the piercings there. Because you're a brat, not really because he gets off on it.  
Merlin might take a little longer to get his bulge out, but you're pretty quick. The feeling of even something rubbing against your nook gets you going, and the way your legs are spread apart so wide just so your shins can be on either side of his hips really helps too. Not... that you need much help with a libido like yours. 

Pretty much everything about your quadmate is a turn-on for you, though. How much bigger than you he is, how much stronger he is, despite your highblood advantage. How much more collected and in control of himself he is, even has an effect on you. It's terrible and wonderful all at once, because he's just stupid hot and he's all yours.

Your bulge slides out, slick against his stomach as he shuffles you forward, using his feet to tug his pants lower on his thighs, away from the inevitable mess. You hear at least one pant leg slap onto the floor, but the motion of his hips under you has you distracted. The warmth of him against your nook claims a lot of your attention, but your focus is on his hand the moment his fingers slide over the base of your bulge. 

Merlin's careful with you, allows you to wrap around his digits while he teases, watching your face while his other hand pets at the inside of your thigh where you're sensitive and soft. You love how gentle he is with you, as if you're breakable under his big hands.

You probably are, but it'd take a lot. And, innuendo absolutely intended, you can take _a lot_.

The sensation of his bulge tip moving across the slit of your nook is an odd one. Warm, slick, pushing right up under your own bulge to join his fingers. That's not where you want it to be, but it's still nice. He's still fucking big, too, and he's not even in you yet. Just the width of his bulge as the rest of it moves out of his sheath is hot against your nook, and you twitch your hips in a way that intensifies that feeling for him too. 

You peek down at it, curling against his hand, trying to get hold of something. The bump of one of his piercings presses against your skin, slick from that two of you already, and you're already feeling impatient. You want that fat, pierced bulge of his _in_ you already!

You steady yourself with just one hand on Merlin's chest, fully intending on putting the other back in a moment. Careful not to just outright grab him, you slide your hand between his bulge and his hand on your own. You hook your fingers around him and guide him back to your nook, and even though you're cool in temperature compared to him, his bulge follows your direction well enough. It takes some fumbling, but you get the tip of him in the slit of your nook, and then very quickly, the rest of his bulge tries to follow.

It nearly knocks the wind out of you with how quickly you have to sit up and pull back, making sure you decide how much of him goes in to start. 

This isn't something you do often, after all. Not when your ass in an option. But that takes planning, routines, and a shower that you don't want to bother with tonight. You just want to show him how much his quiet confession means to you, and you're not interrupting this just to go make sure your ass can handle a bulge... but holy fuck you tend to forget just how much more of a challenge having him in your nook is. 

The main issue is, you're very small... Well, not really! Just in comparison to Merlin! You're pretty average as far as Seichan trolls go. But Merlin's bulge is the length of your fucking forearm, and even when you pull back he can still reach you, and not like, just the tip of him either. 

He's just. A lot. 

But you're stubborn, and live for the thrill of him fucking you until you can't get up. And while that might not be the goal tonight, you're pretty determined to at least get most of his bulge in you, as a sort of pride thing. 

You ease yourself back down, slow because you don't want to hurt yourself and ruin this whole night. (it wouldn't ruin it, Merlin would still look after you, but it would fuck up your current plan and you don't want that!). He's just, so warm, so wide, and you know it's going to take some work when you feel some strain, but fuck if he doesn't feel amazing anyways.

Merlin's hand finds your face, and you're not even sure when you closed your eyes, but you open them and look down at him, lazed on his back on the couch under you. He watches you so fondly as you roll your hips, his thumb petting over your cheek as you let out a soft, shaky sound, feeling his bulge push deeper, spreading your nook wider.

The first of his piercings is already in, but when the second one starts, your hold on him gets a little tighter. You shouldn't, but you push yourself down, cram just a little more of him into you, and when his bulge curls it takes the breath from your lungs.

"Oh fuck," You gasp, and try to hold yourself up by clinging to Merlin's arm. He lets you steady yourself, and even keeps petting you.

"Feel good?" He purrs the words and you nod, distracted and full. 

Each piercing on his bulge is so much more noticeable in your nook as he shifts. In your chute you only feel them when he's first getting his bulge in, but your nook is more sensitive _everywhere_. Every drag of the studs inside you has your mouth falling open, eyes half lidded as you ride him as carefully as you can. 

You try to sit up, lift a little more off of him before dropping back down, but can't keep strength in your legs when you can feel the tip of him actual turn over inside you, just so there's room for more of him. You can't stay upright when you're not even able to stop yourself from burbling out noises at him.

"I've got you," Merlin coaxes you to look at him, even if he's clearly feeling exactly what you are. He's holding you steady, but only barely.

You're slow, overstuffed and already getting over sensitive, but you keep shifting your hips to work him deeper, trying get more of him inside you. Fuck, your nook is _not_ used to this much work, but you don't care, he feels amazing- he always does. 

Merlin's other hand pets your thigh, and it's such a sweet distraction that it keeps you from being annoyed that you can't get to the base of him. He's too big for you like this, but fuck you can get pretty close to taking all of him. Your nook is only so deep, and without regular use, you're sure you can't get even as far as previous times that took more prep than you have the patience for now. 

Almost will have to be good enough, because you know you've hit your limit right at the last stud in his bulge, and your nook aches. It's so very worth the way you feel so full you might faint, though. You're feverishly turned on and you have to have fingers pinched tight to the base of your bulge to make sure you don't go off early. 

You're so far gone you can't get words out to him, to even warn him how close you are, but Merlin doesn't seem to need them. He knows you, he can read you. He's right there with you too, judging by the look on his face. 

"Barbel," He strokes your cheek as you keep one arm wrapped around his forearm, keeping yourself upright by clinging to him. But you're shaking, hips barely twitching as your nook squeezes his bulge tight, "Fuck, can I?"

Why the fuck is he asking? You've barely got the sense to nod, moaning as his bulge curls in you again, the added texture of Merlin's piercings shifting once more. Carefully, he pulls his hand away from your face, taking away your pillar you'd been steadying yourself with, but you're sunk down as far as you can go on him, and you're not going anywhere. You set your hand back on his chest, both to support yourself and because you just want to touch him. 

Big, firm hands pet your sides, just under your gills and you shiver, sucking in short little breaths as you shift on him ever so slightly, nerves alight and hand tight on your bulge because you know he's just as close to going off, fucking up into you in little starts and stops, careful not to be too rough but you know he's right there, and you nod to him again to encourage him.

He holds you down on his bulge by the hips, and then you feel heat and the thick pulse of his material being pumped into you, filling your nook. You try to move, just a little, but he doesn't let you lift your hips because he knows you like it. Merlin knows you like when he fills you to the brim- and with nearly all of his bulge in you, it certainly is to the brim. 

You're shaking, you're so close, but you can't spill yet. You want to so badly. You want to cum, stuffed full of his big bulge, but you have _plans_ , damn it.

Frustrated and desperate, you roll your hips once more for good measure, and he sits up, breathing heavily and arms going around you. So you do it again, just to hear him make a little noise, even if it's the sharp intake of breath he does as his bulge gives one last little pulse of material in your nook before you have to pull off him.

You decaptchalogue your bucket and it clangs against the tile floor next to the couch. You're unfocused, right at the edge of orgasm, and you don't want to drip onto the floor- no, you need to do this. You need to show him how much he means to you-

Merlin's hand on your shoulder catches you as you almost fall, his eyes are wide, even though he looks exhausted. You're on a mission at this point, though. The metal of the rim presses into your thighs as you sink down over it on the floor, nook trying to clench on a bulge that's not there anymore. Only his material fills you now, and it's not staying there. 

His warm palm finds your cheek again, careful and soft as he looks you over, watches you shiver as you hold yourself up, tugging your bulge frantically. It barely takes three strokes and you're gone, spilling against the side as your nook empties into the pail. 

His teal mixes so nice with your fuchsia- you rarely get to see it. Even now, you're not really looking, dazed as Merlin holds you up, your chest heaving as you suck in air, the sounds half moan. Fuck, you feel good. Sore, overstimulated, but satisfied and accomplished all at once.

You can't focus on how hot the sound of your combined material dripping into the bucket is when he's looking at you so softly, though. He kisses you, sitting on the edge of the sofa, making sure you don't tip over when you lean forward into his hands. 

"I love you," you tell him, out of breath to the point that you can't even try making out with him yet. "I fucking love you, and your stellar bulge."

You get a tired, snort of a laugh instead of him echoing your confession again, and you can't even ask for more than that, because oh my God, did you really need to say that? So much for being romantic, stupid cum brain. 

You must have been making a face, because he shakes his head and then rests his forehead against yours, expression warm and fond.

"Wanted to fill a bucket, huh?" He's holding your cheeks, petting you, helping you settle down like he always does. He takes such good care of you every time...

"Yeah. Felt right." You're still trying to slow your breathing, as well as your heart rate, but it isn't easy.

"It did." He confirms. Merlin sighs and it's the most content sound you've heard him make since you were told you were in the clear after you got sick. "Very right, and very red."  
And... he's happy with that. You can see it just looking at him like this, and your pusher melts in your chest.

Unfortunately, so does the strength in your legs, and you almost knock the bucket full of slurry over when you try to sit down.

"Fucking, shit," You cling to his arms again and he laughs at you, "Legs don't fucking work right, you got me good."

"You asked for it. You were the one trying to take the whole thing-" He starts, eying you curiously as you stash the full bucket in your sylladex for later... purposes. 

"I'm not a quitter, you know this." You insist to him, but he's already starting to get to his feet.

"Oh I know," He hauls you up after him, but your legs are jelly, and your nook is now not nearly as comfortable since the high of being fucked has started to fade. "You don't know how to quit, even if it's what's good for you."

"I dunno, seemed pretty good for you too," You give him a sassy wink, and proceed to stumble over your own feet trying to follow him to the assumed destination of The Shower. You're rewarded with a rare, actual eye roll as he scoops you up, gathering you into his arms like some kind of sweaty, messy prize.

"You're terrible, and I love you." Merlin tells you, and even though you try to act like it's not big deal, like you're still teasing back and forth with him, and like you already know.... your pusher swells in your chest, and you have to hide your grin against his neck. And if your eyes are a little wet before you get into the shower with him? He certainly doesn't call you on it.


End file.
